


Superhero Adoption Agency

by brushstrokesApocalyptic



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Identity Reveal, Irony, Originally a Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brushstrokesApocalyptic/pseuds/brushstrokesApocalyptic
Summary: Jefferson Davis realizes that Spider-Man is a child, and is determined to put an end to his recklessness. Miles disapproves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm well aware i'm not the first to get to [this prompt](http://brushstrokesapocalyptic.tumblr.com/post/181257362039/ironinkpen-concept-after-a-few-meetings-miles), but hey! it's just my take on it.

"He's a child."

He feels dumb for not figuring it out sooner. It's been nearly a month since the interdimensional science doo-hicky that shook Brooklyn's foundations, nearly a month since Peter Parker died and a new Spider-Man appeared to take his place, and nearly a month since Jefferson met that new superhero in person.

And it's only now, sitting on the sofa with his wife watching the evening news, that he's put the pieces together.

Rio hums quietly, giving him a curious look, and Jefferson elaborates. "Spider-Man— the _new_ Spider-Man, he's just— he's _tiny,_ Rio, how did I not notice that before?"

"Maybe he's just short," Rio says, looking back at the report on the latest villainy Spider-Man has thwarted.

"It's not just that," Jefferson says. "He _acts_ like one— lord, how did I not see it? He thinks deepening his voice actually disguises it. He _hugged_ me, Rio!"

Rio gives him an amused grin, which is _not_ helping. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"

Jefferson groans, slumping back in the sofa and putting a hand over his eyes. "...Well," he sighs, "I guess I'd better stop him from getting himself _killed."_

 

* * *

 

Miles isn't sure, but he thinks his dad's been showing up to a lot more supervillain attacks in the past week or so. It is, to put it bluntly, _kinda stressful._

For one, that's his dad getting a dozen more opportunities to recognize _something_ about him and blow his cover wide open. He's done his best to keep his distance, as much as Dad tries to catch him whenever the fighting's over— but he can't help but worry he'll slip up.

For another, that's his _dad_ getting involved in _life threatening situations!_ He could get hurt, and Miles couldn't deal with that. Not again.

(The idea that that's the kind of concern leading his father into the fray in the first place doesn't even cross his mind. Why would Dad ever think Spider-Man needs protecting?)

In the end, it feels like he's being torn in half by the warring desires to avoid getting caught but also keep Dad safe. It comes to a head in this latest fight— which happens to involve a _lot_ of property damage, thanks, supervillains— as he's swinging between buildings, dodging thrown chunks of pavement, and he hears his father yell something.

The exact words are lost in the noise, and they don't matter— what matters is they get Miles' attention, and the villain's attention, and it's with a horrible lurch that Miles sees the villain turn and aim their attacks at a _much_ less slippery target.

Miles doesn't think. He's already shooting a web to hit the villain's arm, tug their aim off even just a little bit at the same time as he changes his own direction, swinging down and slamming straight into his father. He bowls over, pavement cracking where he'd stood just a second ago, and Miles doesn't hesitate to drag him back to his feet and pull him behind a wall before the dust settles.

"Get out of here," he says, barely remembering to disguise his voice, and he turns to return to the fray— but a hand closes around his wrist, pulling him back.

"You can't go back out there," his father says, sounding— scared? _Not scared, something else..._ "It's dangerous!"

"It is for _you,"_ Miles says, narrowing his eyes. "But I'm Spider-Man. I can handle myself."

"You're just a kid," his dad says, and Miles stiffens. "You can't keep doing this! You'll get hurt!"

_Not fear. Concern._

"I'm not a kid!" Miles insists, purposefully deepening his voice even further in an attempt to keep his cover.

Dad doesn't seem to buy it. "That's the fakest voice I've heard in my life, son."

Miles resolves to look up how to properly change his voice as soon as this fight is over. Also as soon as he can get _back_ to the fight. He thinks he can hear the villain looking for them. "I've done it well enough before," he says, twisting his hand free and jumping back to dodge his father's attempt to catch him again. The ground shakes as another chunk of pavement is torn loose from the ground. "Get _out_ of here!"

He swings away before he can see what his father does, but he only sees him again after the fight is well and over, so that's enough of a win for him.

 

* * *

 

The next time Jefferson meets Spider-Man, his voice sound a hell of a lot more natural. Still not the greatest, and he keeps slipping in and out of the world's worst accent, but hey. He's a kid. What can he expect?

 _...When did I start thinking of him like that?_ Jefferson wonders, resting his hands on the steering wheel and staring pensively at the night sky through the windshield. It's been another month since he first had The Revelation, and he's no closer to actually catching and putting an end to this kid's recklessness. Spider-Man wisened up to his tricks far too fast, and at this point it seems like they've settled into a pattern of Jefferson shouting encouragement from the sidelines like everyone else, and Spider-Man staying well out of arms reach whenever the situation is calm enough for catching him to be reasonable.

Something swings between a couple skyscrapers, and Jefferson curses softly. _Speak of the devil,_ he thinks, firing up the ignition and pulling out of the parking spot to follow. The traffic isn't too busy here, tonight, which is the only reason Jefferson feels comfortable glancing rapidly between the street he's supposed to keep his eyes on and the superhero that actually has his attention.

_This darn child, turning such a responsible driver reckless._

He has a reason, at least. Where there's Spider-Man, there's trouble, because trouble is what Spider-Man deals in. And it's the police's job to clean up the aftermath, and maybe also get Spider-Man to stop dealing in trouble, seriously, kid, you're gonna get yourself killed.

Jefferson pulls into a dark parking lot below a large bank and parks the car, keeping his eyes on the dark speck he sees crawling between the windows. It's impossible to make out details from this distance, but he sees the boy pry one of the windows open and climb inside, vanishing entirely. Jefferson sighs, turns on the radio, and waits for everything to go to hell.

He has to wait almost twenty minutes for the first sign of chaos, which might be a new record. It's a small tremor, rippling the coffee he picked up from a nearby shop, that makes him glance up just in time to see the building start to collapse.

He jerks forwards, watching with wide eyes and a tight throat as a series of bangs crack through the air and the dust rises. His heart skips a beat before he catches the tiny shape swinging away, arc carrying it down to the street, and he's already driving.

Jefferson finds Spider-Man sat in the opening of an alleyway, back against the wall, a duffel bag in his lap. He clambers out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and Spider-Man lifts his head to look at him with a breathless laugh. "Thought I saw you," he quips, voice strained.

"What's going on? What happened?" Jefferson asks, hurrying over and kneeling by his side. "Are you hurt?"

"Always gotta be business with ya, huh," Spider-Man says. He laughs again, then winces. "I'm fine."

"You're _not,"_ Jefferson says, eyes tracking down his small frame and _oh lord please tell me that dark spot on the bag is coffee or something._ "You need a hospital."

"Now c'mon officer, you know I can't do that," Spider-Man says, voice light, before his eyes narrow and harden. "But I need your help, I need you to get this evidence to— wait, no, hold on."

He uncurls just enough to dig through the bag, and coincidentally enough for Jefferson to see the skin beneath— the _skin_ beneath, the light from the streetlamps may not be enough to survey all the damage but he _can_ see the patch where black fabric has been torn to reveal brown skin.

Jefferson opens his mouth to demand Spider-Man visit a _goddamn hospital,_ but before he can get a word out he gets a bag shoved in his face. "Take this, it's all evidence against tons of crime rings and stuff," Spider-Man says, getting to his feet and _very conspicuously_ pressing his arm over his side. "I gotta… get this goober places. Save the world. Again."

He stumbles, and Jefferson is up in a flash helping him stand. "Hospital."

"Laboratory, actually, but you were close," Spider-Man mumbles, swaying on his feet. Then he shakes his head and steps away quickly. "Fuck, no, gotta focus."

Despite himself, Jefferson glares. "Watch your language, young man!"

"Sorry, Dad," Spider-Man says, and an instant later he's off swinging again, leaving Jefferson with the consequences of his actions.

For a long moment, he just stands there, arms full of a duffel bag and staring at empty space. "...I'm gonna have to talk with Rio."

 

* * *

 

Miles has been screaming internally for the last few hours. There's also an undercurrent of simulating every single way his Dad will react, all of which involve a very stern talking-to and also grounding, and it's only under _that_ that he can actually. You know. Think.

He didn't visit a hospital. He _couldn't,_ not even as his civilian identity, because he'd already been spotted as Spider-Man with an injury in that exact spot. And it's not like he has any difficulty patching it up— the bullet only grazed him, it doesn't even need any stitches!

...Probably. He hopes.

Still, he did the best he could to clean and bandage it, _before_ finishing the mission this time (boy hadn't it been embarrassing to pass out from blood loss that one time) and he's now safe and sound in bed, ready for a good night's sleep.

...Or not, because he's still got the first two layers of anarchy running in his brain, and it's a wonder he got any of that stuff done in this state.

 _So, it's settled, it's definitely gonna go 'you're grounded,' THEN 'you're spider-man,' and then I'll be grounded and also Spider-Man,_ Miles thinks, burying his face in his pillow as he waits for the painkillers to kick in. At least he's getting that chaos a little more organized. _And I'll bet, step one is he calls me and tells me he's here to talk with me in person—_

Something buzzes against Miles' stomach, and it takes him a moment to realize it's his phone— he scrambles to retrieve it, a pit forming in his stomach as he sees that it's his dad calling, and he answers. "Dad?"

"Hey, Miles, uh," Dad says, and with every second the inner panic grows louder. "I got something I wanna talk with you about, if it's not too late?"

 _Grounded._ "...Sure?"

"I'm actually outside the school, if you can come out and see me," Dad says. "It's just, uh… would be easier in person."

 _Super grounded._ "Sure, s'no problem," Miles says, climbing carefully out of bed and picking up his web-shooters. "Security guard won't catch me."

That probably wasn't the right thing to say. "Hey, hey, I don't want you breaking no rules—"

"Just a joke, just a joke!" Miles says as he pulls the window open and climbs out, trying not to wince audibly when it pulls at his side. "I'm not breaking any rules," he says, breaking at least ten rules.

"Okay, good," Dad says. "See you in a bit, alright? Like I said, just outside the school. Front door."

"Yeah, yeah, got it," Miles says, striding down the side of the building, and then he hangs up.

Without his costume he has to stick to the streets, which is either a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, he has more time to think about what he's gonna say, but on the other he has more time to think about what _Dad's_ gonna say.

He rounds the corner to the front entrance and sees the police cruiser parked in front. Still screaming inside, he takes a deep breath and keeps walking, knocking gently on the window when he reaches it.

Dad jumps, his eyes having been fixed on the front door, and Miles realizes belatedly he was probably expecting him to come from _inside the building— whoops._ The window rolls down, and he steels himself.

"I went out a side entrance," he blurts out as an excuse, at the same time as Dad tries to say something, and for a moment they just blink at each other. "I-I mean, I noticed you were watching the front door, I was just— I went out through a side entrance, that's why I didn't— what'd you want to talk about?"

Dad blinks, then shakes his head quickly. "Right, yeah, uh— I was just… god, I dunno how to say this, um… do you wanna sit with me, or…?"

Miles stuffs his hands in his pockets, feeling the shooters around his wrists. It's a risk, and it'd definitely qualify as incriminating evidence if discovered, but he just feels more comfortable knowing he get away in an instant. "No thanks, I'll stay out here."

"You're not cold?" Dad asks, and Miles shakes his head. "Well, alright. Alright, I just…" Dad takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. "Well, me and Rio were talking, and what would you think about having a brother?"

Mile's brain grinds to a halt, even the mental screaming telling him to leave this situation right now immediately quieting down just because how is he supposed to _react_ to that? "...Hm?"

"Not like, a baby, I mean," Dad says, and that doesn't help Miles at all. "I was thinking more like, adopting— there's this— person— kid, and he's not— I feel like he could use a good influence, and…"

Miles starts tuning him out, still staring blankly as his brain attempts to reboot. It takes a few tries, but it eventually gets going, enough for him to ask the world's most eloquent question. "What?"

Dad pauses, then lets his head thump against the steering wheel. "...Should've slept on it," he mutters, and he probably thinks Miles can't hear it. "How'm I supposed to just say I want to adopt Spider-Man."

 _Scratch that, definitely doesn't think I can hear._ "What?!"

Dad jolts upright. "Uh, forget I said that?"

"I'm not gonna just— _Spider-Man?_ What?" This is absolutely not the conversation Miles was expecting to have, and it's _probably_ for the better? But there's a million questions running through his mind and they're making his head swim.

Dad seems to notice, because he snaps into fatherly concern mode. "Hey, Miles, are you okay? You look kinda..."

Miles tenses up a little, then forces his shoulders to relax. "I-I'm fine! I'm fine, just— a little tired, it's late, got schoolwork, um…" Another dizzy spell hits. "...Maybe I should sit down after all."

"Hop on in," Dad says, and Miles climbs into the passengers side door. It's a little awkward, keeping his hands shoved in his pockets to hide the web-shooters, but he makes do.

"So, uh, Spider-Man?" Miles asks, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Isn't he like, an adult? You can't seriously wanna adopt _Spider-Man."_

Dad gives him a small frown. "He's about your age, if I've gotta guess," he says. "And he— you _know_ what Spider-Man does. You know what happened to… to the first one."

Miles does know. He knows better than anyone what happened to Peter Parker.

"I can't let some kid swing right into the same fate." He takes a long, shaky breath. "Not— he's _your age,_ Miles. You don't know what it's like, watching some kid swinging around and— I can't help but see _you_ out there."

_Because I am out there._

"...He got hurt, today," Dad says, and Miles scratches at the bandages through his hoodie. "He was hurt, and I found him, and I realized… what if that was you? What if I walked into an alleyway and found you there, bleeding, and just… I-I don't wanna bury another… I don't think he has anyone to feel like that for him." _He does._ "And I wanna be that person." _You already are._

Miles stares out of the window, up at the night sky. "...That's… you still wanna _adopt_ Spider-Man. I can't get past that. You don't even know his _name."_

"Do you have a problem with it?" Dad asks. "I came here to ask you, you know, you gotta tell me if it's a problem."

"I don't— know? No? Yes? You can't _adopt Spider-Man,_ Dad," Miles says, giving him a baffled look.

Dad just grins a little. "And why not?"

 _Because he's already your son,_ Miles doesn't say. "Because he's _Spider-Man._ Are you gonna go around adopting every superhero you meet?"

"If they're children, sure!" Dad says. "Someone needs to, and it might as well be me."

"Spider-Man doesn't need a dad," Miles says, pushing the door open again. "If you can catch him, sure, then we can talk."

"How'm I supposed to keep hold of him long enough to call you, though?" Dad asks, as Miles climbs out of the car.

"That'll be the challenge then, won't it?" Miles says, shutting the door and leaning down to rest his elbows on the window. "I'd say if you can keep him still long enough for it, then we can have a talk."

 

* * *

 

It's probably a coincidence, but it seems like ever since he had that talk with Miles, Spider-Man has put up even more of an effort to evade Jefferson's grasp.

He doesn't even stick around to talk after the police show up, the only proof he was even there in the first place being the fact that all the criminals are pasted to the ground with multiple layers of thick webbing. On the few occasions that he _does_ let Jefferson see him, it's only for a brief moment before blipping out of sight.

It's like he already knows Jefferson is actively trying to catch him, and won't let it happen.

He's getting suspicious, but he's not really sure of what— how would Spider-Man know about this? The only people he's discussed this with are Rio and Miles, and he knows neither of _them_ could be Spider-Man themselves. That would be ridiculous.

 _So, it's a coincidence, right?_ It doesn't feel like it, though, when Jefferson rolls up ever so slightly late to the scene and spies Spider-Man talking with one of the other officers, only to look over at him and vanish. When Spider-Man swings just overhead, and then the next second there's nothing but a rope of webbing swaying in the wind. When Jefferson realizes Spider-Man is only avoiding _him._

"It's like he knows," he's saying over the morning paper, nominally doing the crossword but really just sort of squinting at it. He glances up at Rio as she sets a plate of eggs in front of him. "You're not keeping something from me, are you?"

Rio laughs. "Me? No, mi amor, not me. I'm just as worried as you."

"Of course," Jefferson says, smiling and digging in.

A floorboard creaks, and he looks up to see Miles peeking in around the corner. Their eyes meet, and Miles gives a nervous smile and walks in fully. "Still no luck with Spider-Man?"

He's asked that question practically every day for the past week, whether it be by text or on the phone or in person, and the answer never changes. Miles knows that just as well as him, to the point where he doesn't even wait to hear it before striding past and making for his room.

Rio watches him go, then looks down at Jefferson. "You going to work?"

"No, I'm off duty for today," Jefferson says, finishing the eggs. "Though I kinda wish I _wasn't,_ since, you know..."

Rio chuckles. "You're obsessed," she says, pressing a kiss on his cheek. "Pay some of that attention to our _current_ son, too."

"I know, I know," Jefferson says, getting up and pushing his chair back in. "I got something I wanna talk with him now, actually."

"Have fun," Rio says, as he brushes past.

He hesitates when he reaches Miles' door, words escaping him— he _had_ wanted to talk about something, ask about schoolwork since he's just come home for the weekend, but his mind has just been so frazzled. It takes him a moment to gather it back up again, and he lifts his hand to knock.

A sound drifts out through the door, though, and he pauses again— it's Miles, talking, and Jefferson can't help but listen in. _Is he on the phone?_

"...Stupid, stupid, gonna blow my cover, jeez..." Miles is saying, halfway to a whisper, and Jefferson frowns. "Come on, why does this stuff have to last so long..."

He knows he should knock first, but curiosity overtakes him just enough for him to push the door open just a crack. He peeks in, glancing around, but he can't see Miles anywhere until a noise makes him glance up and his brain stops.

He sees Miles, staring wide-eyed at him as he bends down to pick up a dropped book. He sees Miles, bending _up,_ to retrieve a book stuck to the ceiling by a coat of webbing, while Miles himself is _also_ stuck to the ceiling. He'd think gravity had been reversed, if Miles' jacket weren't dangling down.

 _His feet are sticking to the ceiling,_ some part of Jefferson's brain observes, as the seconds tick by much, much slower than they should. _His feet, are attached to the ceiling, in much the same way that Spider-Man's do. Miles is—_

Miles vanishes, at the same time as Jefferson starts to say something. There's a thump from the floor, a couple papers flutter on his desk, and then the window slams open and there's a soft _fwip_ and a rush of air. Jefferson rushes forwards, grasping at the empty space— but there's nothing.

It takes a moment for that all to sink in, and once again, he feels like an idiot. "...Alright."

 

* * *

 

Miles skids to a stop on the top of a building two blocks away, panting and screaming internally again. _Actually, it's pretty isolated up here, I could probably start screaming for real if I wanted._

He only gets to entertain that thought for a few seconds before his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, taking a deep breath, and answers it.

"Miles, you are _grounded,"_ his dad immediately says, and Miles winces.

"Dad—"

"You're _Spider-Man!"_

"No?" Miles says, figuring he might as well launch headfirst into implausible deniability for as long as he can. "Dad, I can explain—"

"That's right, you _can_ explain," Dad says, a door slamming in the background. "Where are you right now? I'm gonna come getcha."

"I'm on a building—" He cuts himself off, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Dad, you can't ground me!"

"I can and I will, young man."

"I'm Spider-Man!"

"Spider-Man is grounded," Dad retorts.

"Who's going to protect the city?!"

"Not you, that's for sure."

Miles sighs, sitting down heavily. "This is why I didn't tell you," he grumbles.

"Well, maybe if you _had,_ I wouldn't have grounded you," Dad says. "God, no wonder you were so insistent I couldn't adopt Spider-Man."

"Yeah, can't exactly adopt your own kid," Miles says, grinning a little. He glances over the edge of the roof, sees a familiar car drive by, and shrinks back. "Look, I—"

"I don't want any excuses," Dad says. "You— you got _hurt,_ Miles— in the— in that alley, you were…"

His breath hitches, and Miles curls up tighter. The bandages only just came off. "I took care of it properly. Didn't get infected."

"You shouldn't have _had_ to," Dad says. "You're just a— you're only thirteen, Miles, I don't wanna see you turning out like your Uncle."

That stabs deeper than any injury Miles has sustained on the job. "I-I won't," he says, throat closing up. "I know what I'm doing."

"I'll bet that's what Aaron thought too."

It was, Miles is sure of it. It must have been right up until the moment Miles pulled his mask off, when they stood face-to-face for only a few moments before—

Miles forces himself to breathe. "...I'm sorry," he says.

"Sorry enough to give up vigilantism?"

"No," Miles says immediately. "I'm just… sorry I didn't tell you. I knew you'd disapprove, and…"

They're silent for a moment, and then Dad sighs. "I do, I do disapprove. Just… let me come pick you up, alright?"

Miles hesitates. "...I'm over that one coffee shop," he says. "Um, the one that had those peppermint donuts last year?"

"Got it," Dad says. "I'll be there in a minute. Love you."

"You too," Miles says, and then Dad hangs up. He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and climbs down.

He strides out of the alleyway to find his dad pulling into the parking lot, and for a moment he thinks of retreating again— _No. I need to face this._

Dad gets out of the car as he approaches, and Miles opens his mouth to speak— but he's pulled into a hug, breath forced from his lungs as his father embraces him tightly. "Don't ever keep something like that from me again," he says, and he probably means to sound mad. He fails.

"'M sorry," Miles says, hugging back. "Does this mean I'm not grounded after all?"

His dad releases. "You're still grounded."

"Come _on!"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops it's a chapter-fic.
> 
> for those of you that got here after i marked it as having three chapters (and then left it there for a while because this chapter took longer to finish than expected): originally, i posted the first chapter as a standalone oneshot! i had no thoughts on what happened next, and fully intended to leave it like that. then i had a conversation and realized, jefferson would _absolutely_ attempt to adopt the rest of the spider-kids.
> 
> so now it's a chapter fic. yay!

_Gwen [07:31 PM]_

yo miles you free tonight? i wanna show you this great pizza place that just opened in my world.

_Miles [07:35 PM]_

Can't. I'm grounded.

_Gwen [07:35 PM]_

just sneak out, dude! you're spider-man!

_Miles [07:36 PM]_

Spider-Man is grounded too :(

_Gwen [07:38 PM]_

????!!!

 

* * *

 

Grounding, it turns out, means getting a lecture on the importance of compliance with the law and having his web-shooters confiscated. It ended with a hug and assurance that Dad is just _really_ worried about Miles, which is nice and all, but it's only been like four hours since then and he's _already_ feeling stir-crazy.

He shouldn't be this anxious about it. There's not that much petty crime nowadays, and he's gotten a good enough feel for the way supervillains operate that he's sure Spider-Man can vanish for a weekend without too much fuss. But still, as he lies halfway off his bed with his feet tapping on the floor, he realizes the traffic outside never seemed so _loud._

Gwen hasn't texted him anything else after the string of utterly baffled punctuation from an hour ago. He's considered continuing the conversation in some other direction, just to have something to do— and he's even started typing a couple times, but always backspaced it away because he just doesn't know _what_ to talk about. Does he tell her about how it happened? Does he ask if anyone knows _her_ identity? What does he _do?_

Something blurs past the window, and Miles blinks. For a moment, he thinks it was a bird— and then his head buzzes, niggling at the base of his skull, and a moment later the shape blurs past again and catches itself on the window sill.

Miles jolts upright as Spider-Woman pulls herself up and knocks on the glass. He can practically see her grinning even through the mask as he scrambles to his feet and throws the window open, practically dragging her inside. "What are you _doing_ here?! People are gonna see!"

"So this is where you live?" she asks, pulling her mask off and looking around at his room with an appreciative glint in her eye. She does not address the question, nor does she comment on the fact that she's here at all.

"I seriously don't think we're supposed to be using those gizmo-goober-things so casually," Miles hisses.

Gwen laughs, sitting down at his desk and spinning the chair around casually. "It's fine, dude, it's not like they're gonna break."

"You don't know that," Miles says, crossing his arms. "Also, I still don't know why you're here."

"You said Spider-Man's grounded," she says, leaning back and kicking off of his desk to spin faster. "That's like, mega serious business. Who's gonna protect the city?"

"It's fine, really," Miles says. "It's only for a couple days. My Dad's just upset because he found out I'm Spider-Man."

"Gosh, that's swell of him."

Miles frowns. "I don't think you're taking this as seriously as you claim to be."

Gwen comes to a stop and gives him a look that's spoiled significantly by the fact that her hair is a mess and she can't focus her eyes properly. "Miles. This is the most serious I've ever been about _anything."_

"No, it's not."

"You're right, I just wanted to say hi in person."

"Did you have to do it in full costume, though?"

Gwen frowns. "I don't understand the question."

Miles' head buzzes a split-second before there's a knock at the door, and evidently Gwen feels it too because in a moment she leaps through the air to land on the ceiling and scramble into a corner. "Miles? Are you talking to someone in there?" Dad asks.

"No! I-I mean, yes!" Miles says quickly. "I called a friend. She was on speaker phone."

The door opens a crack and Dad peers through, looking skeptical. "You better not have snuck someone in here."

"Of course not, how would I even do that?" Miles asks, sitting down. In the corner, hidden from sight as long as Dad doesn't open the door fully, Gwen hunkers in even further.

Dad frowns, then shrugs. "Well, as long as you remember you're still grounded. And do your homework."

"Yeah, I will!" Miles says, and then the door slides shut and he breathes a sigh of relief.

"Geez, he seems nice," Gwen deadpans, dropping back to the ground.

"He's alright, he's just a little mad about the whole. Y'know. Secret identity thing." Miles waves a hand vaguely. "You should really go, though. Dunno if we can manage a second close call like that."

"Fine, fine," Gwen says, tugging her mask back on and striding back to the window. She pauses. "But, maybe later you could sneak out and I show you that—"

"Gwen."

"It's really good pizza!"

_"Gwen._ Just go already."

Gwen grumbles a little, but climbs out of the window and swings away without another word. Miles stares at the window for a moment, then sighs and digs out his homework.

 

* * *

 

Miles is grounded right now. Miles is definitely, completely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, _grounded—_ Jefferson even got Rio in on it, he texted her and everything and she's definitely still holding onto the little things Miles was using to shoot his webs.

And yet, right now, he's looking at a couple of criminals strung up on a light pole in front of the bank they tried to rob.

And, to top it all off, no one else finds anything unusual about it. Because why should they? There's no reason Spider-Man shouldn't be doing his regular old Spider-Man thing, except for the part where Jefferson grounded Spider-Man personally.

"...So, you didn't see anything unusual?" Jefferson says, currently interviewing the teller who'd been almost robbed because in the face of utter confusion all he can do is his job.

"Nothing out of the usual for this city," she clarifies. "There was Spider-Man, but, well… everything he gets up to is weird anyway."

"Uh-huh," Jefferson says, dutifully noting that down. Then he blinks. "Wait, could you clarify what you mean by that? Was there something unusual about Spider-Man's behavior?"

"I mean, he wasn't acting weird or anything, that I noticed," the teller says. "I didn't hear him speak, but I was kinda hiding under the counter for most of it. But I'm pretty sure his costume looked different. More… white? Maybe some pink too? But definitely partly white."

Jefferson frowns. "A different costume…?"

"Yeah, he was moving around too much to get a good look, but it's like he fell in a giant vat of white paint or something."

Jefferson nods, continuing to note that down. "Right. Was there anything else of note you noticed?"

The teller shakes her head. "No, nothing."

"Right, thank you for your time. You're free to go."

The teller nods and hurries off. Jefferson puts her out of his mind, instead turning back to the criminals being carefully cut down from their prison. _A different outfit… A different Spider-Man?_ He groans and rubs at the bridge of his nose. _Honestly, if I'd known there'd be a brand new Spider-Man ready to show up and replace the last one every time they get indisposed, I would've just let Miles keep going out. This is just too many vigilantes for one city._

_Although, weren't there those reports of multiple Spider-People back when…?_

He shakes his head out of that time again and marches forwards, joining his fellow officers in arresting the robbers. He can worry about that later.

And worry he does, once everything is said and done and he's back to patrolling the city. He has to resist the urge to call Miles personally, at the very least because he's in the middle of driving. When his shift ends and he returns home, he has to resist the urge to run right up to his room and see if he's in there.

Not that he'd need to, because Miles is sitting right at the dinner table with several worksheets spread out in front of him. Rio is sitting next to him with a mug of some steaming liquid, and they both glance momentarily at Jefferson's sudden entrance. Miles just returns to his work, which Rio takes a sip of her drink with a knowing smile.

"He didn't go anywhere," she says.

Miles immediately groans. "Come on, don't you trust me?"

"At the moment? Not really," Jefferson says, walking over and sitting with the two of them.

"Why would you think I _had_ gone out?" Miles asks, resting his cheek on a particularly long a complicated math problem.

"Since apparently, Spider-Man was still out and about," Jefferson says. Miles' head shoots up, and Jefferson continues. "There was a bank robbery. Supposedly, Spider-Man showed up to save the day like always, except his suit was wrong. White and black."

Slowly, Miles lowers his head into his hands. "Why?" he says, voice muffled and probably not directed at anyone in the room. "Why."

Jefferson leans back and crosses his arms. "I'd say it was a well-timed copycat, but they had the webs to prove it. Is there someone you're not telling me about?"

"No. Yes." Miles sighs, lowering his hands. "Yes, but it's a super complicated thing involving alternate dimensions and I _told_ her it's fine, and she was _supposed_ to go back home!"

"She?"

Miles gets up and starts gathering up his homework. "I'm gonna go finish this in my room, see you at dinner," he says, arranging it in a messy pile. Before Jeff can say anything, Miles is already walking away muttering.

He glances at Rio. She shrugs. He sighs. "When did my life get to be _like this?"_

 

* * *

 

_Miles [10:51 PM]_

Gwen you can't go around crime-fighting in my world.

_Gwen [10:52 PM]_

says who

_Miles [10:54 PM]_

Says me. My dad wasn't happy that spider-man went out even while I was definitely stuck at home.

_Gwen [10:56 PM]_

right i forgot he was a cop.

it's not like i was planning on it! i was in the area and there was a robbery and i wasnt gonna just Let It Happen.

_Miles [10:57 PM]_

That's. Fine, yeah, but maybe be a bit more careful next time. Also go home already.

_Gwen [10:57 PM]_

already did :p

_Miles [10:57 PM]_

Good.

_Gwen [11:13 PM]_

so… when Are you gonna be free for pizza?

 

* * *

 

"It tastes a lot more…"

"Heavenly?"

Miles hums. "Spicy. Than I expected."

Gwen raises her eyebrows, taking another bite of her pizza. "That'd be the jalapeno," she says around the mouthful.

"Yeah, that'd do it," Miles says, squinting at his slice. "Why'd you order jalapeno pizza?"

"Tasty."

"I can see… well, taste that." Miles takes another bite and chews ponderously. "I'm just surprised you didn't start with a more traditional flavor."

"Been there, done that, you get to have the fancy stuff. Just count yourself lucky I didn't order the Hawaiian."

Miles blinks. "Why? What's wrong with that?"

"You've never had Hawaiian pizza?" Gwen asks, sitting up stock-straight. "Oh man, I _should've_ ordered it, just to see what you think. There's this whole argument about the toppings. It's got pineapple, and that always seems to piss people off."

Miles frowns. "What's pineapple?"

Gwen stares at him. "...You know, pineapple?"

Miles wrinkles his nose. "...No? I don't know."

"It's a fruit."

"Not one _I've_ ever heard of."

"Are you kidding—" Gwen presses her hands over her face and exhales slowly. "Do you… your world _doesn't have pineapples?"_

Miles shrugs. "I guess?"

"Holy _crap._ No wonder your world sucks. People can't express their frustration by getting into pointless arguments over pizza toppings."

"I'm confused."

Gwen pats him gently on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'll just order more pizza and you can decide for yourself without anyone swaying you."

"Yeah, about that." Miles pulls out his phone and grimaces when he sees the time. "I gotta go, if I don't get to bed soon I'm gonna dead on my feet all the way through school."

"Next time, then," Gwen says, flipping the box shut. She shoves it at him. "And take this home with you! I can get tons more whenever I want. Can even deliver it straight to you if you want."

Miles stares at it. "I don't want. Also, I can't finish an entire pizza all by myself," he says, as Gwen pulls her hood back up and gets to her feet.

"Sure you can," she says, stretching. "I know _Peter_ can."

"Peter is not a good metric to measure people against," Miles says. "Especially not when it comes to pizza consumption."

Gwen laughs. "Go home, you nerd," she says, and then with a thwip she swings off into the distance.

Miles sighs, adjusts the pizza in his hands, and steps back into his dimension. He shakes his head to rid himself of some dizziness from the shift in reality, glances down to make sure he's wearing something over the Spider-Man suit, and starts heading back to his dormitory.

\---

There are definitely two Spider-Men. Jefferson knows this because one of them showed up to take over for a night when Miles was grounded, and also, because he's watching _both_ of them right now as they swing around and around a supervillain in what almost looks like an intricate dance.

The villain in question happens to look like an off-brand Doc Ock, with metallic tentacles and a different overall outfit— and, though he hasn't gotten close enough to tell for sure, he thinks this Doc Ock might be a _man._

Also, the Spider-Men are juggling a pizza box between them. There's a lot going on right now.

There's not a whole lot Jeff can do but watch, leaning against the side of his car and anxiously tapping his foot. This isn't a particularly busy part of the city, and what civilians _were_ there have long since fled on their own. There's nothing he can do to help Miles, as much as he wishes there were. He feels helpless.

There's a loud bang as something dents the roof of his car, and he jumps. That something rolls down his windshield, revealing itself to be the secondary Spider-Man _(Spider-Woman? That's not a very masculine build.)_ who leaves the pizza box on the hood of his car and slings away.

Jefferson leans over and squints at the box. _What is that logo? Some new pizza place?_

There's a crash, and he looks up to find the bootleg Doc Ock struggling to climb out of a small crater in the middle of the road, tentacles gummed up with webbing. The Spider-People swing down, finishing him off with a couple sprays of webbing to wrap him up. _Oh, thank god, I don't have to bury my son just yet._

"...Could've been avoided, Gwen," Miles is saying as Jefferson approaches.

"Yes, yes, you were right and I was wrong," the person who is apparently named Gwen says, heaving Doc Ock to his feet with a lot more strength than he'd expect from such a small frame. "I'll be more careful with my pizza deliveries from now on. Happy?"

"Very." Miles nods, then looks around quickly. "Oh, where—"

"You'd better not be planning on leaving that pizza on my patrol car," Jefferson says, and the Spider-Kids jump a little. "Am I to assume I should be arresting that guy?"

Spider-Gwen makes an uncertain noise, tightening her grip on the webbing. "Nnnno, he's kinda from an alternate dimension," she says, fussing with some kind of bracelet. "I should really be bringing him back to the _proper_ police force."

"Alternate what-now?"

A swirling abyss of colorful lights opens in front of her. "Later, Spider-Man!" she chirps, dragging Doc Ock through behind her, and then it vanishes again.

Jefferson blinks, then looks at Miles. Miles blinks back at him, then winks out of view. Jefferson sighs and rubs at his face. "...Gotta find those adoption forms again..."

Several feet away, Miles yelps like he stubbed his toe.

 

* * *

 

_Miles [11:44 AM]_

You should be more careful around my dad, I'm pretty sure he could tell you're a teenager.

_Gwen [11:46 AM]_

how is that a bad thing? it's not like my secret identity matters in your world

_Miles [11:47 AM]_

It's not about that. He's going to adopt you.

_Gwen [11:49 AM]_

i already have a dad tho?

_Miles [11:49 AM]_

You think that can stop him??

 

* * *

 

It's a weird warning to get from the otherwise down-to-earth Miles _(as down-to-earth as any web-slinging superhero can get, anyway,)_ but it's whatever, it won't get in the way of their now-regular pizza hangouts.

Because that's what they're doing now. Ordering pizza, hanging out on the top of a building while they eat it, sometimes fight a supervillain because that's just how life is. Sometimes they're feeling lazy and just hang out in Miles' dorm with his roommate.

They've branched out a little with regards to the source of the pizza, after Gwen didn't have time to order from her regular source and Miles picked up the slack, and now they've wandered into a faux review show with an audience of themselves.

"I'd say it's about an eight, eight-point-five," Gwen says, licking her fingers clean of grease. "It's no Pizza Hole, that's for sure."

"You say that about literally everything that isn't from that dumb pizza place," Miles says, grinning. "It's not even that great."

"You take that _back,"_ Gwen hisses, slapping him on the shoulder. "Pizza Hole is the _best."_

"I'm just saying, there's only so much you can do to improve pizza! It's good, but there's a limit to it, you know?"

Gwen gasps, putting a hand over her chest as if wounded. "We're never hanging out again," she declares, and Miles starts laughing. "How could you _ever_ say something like that? My own kind?"

"There's no way I'm your kind, Gwen," Miles says, leaning on the railing. "We look approximately nothing alike."

"I was talking about the Spider-Thing," Gwen says, smushing one of her cheeks in. "Us Spider-People have to stick together!"

"That doesn't make us related, though."

Gwen grins. "Your Dad begs to differ."

Miles sputters. "Okay— okay, Gwen, no," he says, face darkening. "That's not something to joke about! It's serious!"

"It's _fine,"_ Gwen says, waving him off. "What even makes you think he'd do that?"

"A couple weeks ago he told me, directly to my face, that he wanted to adopt Spider-Man."

Gwen blinks. _"...You're_ Spider-Man."

Miles remains deathly serious. "Yes. I'm pretty sure the only thing stopping him from following through was the fact that he was already my dad."

Gwen stares at him for a long moment. Miles stares back. Then she snickers, Miles' frown deepens, and she can't help but burst into full on laughter. He's just so _serious_ about it!

"Gwen, stop laughing," Miles whines, and Gwen just laughs harder. "You can't be my sister!"

Gwen manages to catch herself, take a deep breath, and keep herself together just long enough to say, "Gosh, you hate me that much?" before descending back into giggles.

"I-I-I don't _hate_ you!" Miles hurries out, doing his darndest to find a way to backspace in a verbal conversation. "I just— you're from another universe, Gwen, do you even _exist_ here? Legally?"

That makes Gwen pause. "...No, probably not," she muses, staring up at the sky. "If anything, there might be a couple records back at your school? But I wasn't actually a registered student there, so… nope."

Miles sighs. "Well, at least if you don't exist then Dad doesn't have any way to adopt you."

 

* * *

 

Jefferson Davis can't find any evidence of any girl named Gwen that would match this Spider-Woman's profile, and he's growing increasingly certain he is, in fact, going to have to adopt her.

Or at least get her into a better living situation. It's never good when a kid doesn't have so much as a birth certificate to their name.

As he walks up the steps to his front door, he's already piecing together exactly how he plans to tell this to Miles— once the weekend rolls around, of course. It's only Wednesday and this doesn't seem like the kind of conversation to have while he's in costume. He gives a distracted greeting to Rio as he walks by, heading straight for his room, then stops short as a muffled thump sounds forth from Miles' room.

His first instinct is to burst in and apprehend the intruder, but a familiar voice reaches his ear— Miles, grumbling words that Jefferson would give him a _stern_ talking-to about later. Then there's another voice that he takes a moment to place as that Spider-Girl, and then he pushes the door open to see what's actually going on in here.

There's a vague sense of deja vu when he instinctively looks at the floor to find absolutely nothing there. He looks immediately to the ceiling, and is rewarded by the sight of two teenagers in Spider-Suits sitting on the ceiling, trying to pry a book free of the webbing it's encased in. Miles and Gwen lift (lower?) their heads at the sudden flood of light from the doorway, and for a moment they just stare at each other.

"...So, mind tellin' me how your textbooks keep getting webbed to the ceiling, Miles?" Jefferson asks.

Miles laughs sheepishly. "Um, target? Sometimes I aim too well."

"Wait, back up, you've gotten into this mess before?" Gwen asks.

"This exact situation, in fact."

"Right down to the part where I'm here." Jefferson crosses his arms. "Also, mind tellin' me why you're here on a school night? With your lady friend?"

With a firm yank, Miles pulls the book free of the webbing and drops to the floor with a smooth flip. "Left this behind last time I was here, so I decided to come pick it up real quick."

Jefferson raises an eyebrow. "...In full costume?"

"I was on the way back to school," Miles says. "I figured I'd just swing by real quick!"

A small figure appears at Jefferson's shoulder, and he glances over to see Rio peeking around him. Her eyes light up. "Oh, Miles! Is this your friend? It's nice to meet you!"

Gwen blinks, looking a little startled to be acknowledged directly, then gives a small wave. "Uh, you too."

Rio beams. "Are you hungry? I've just made dinner, you can come eat with us."

Miles bounces a little on his heels. "Oh, can I have some too?"

Rio laughs. "Of _course,_ Miles, of course! What, you think we'd starve our own child?"

_"Awesome,_ come on, Gwen!" Miles says, looking up at the girl _still_ perched upside-down. She hasn't even taken off her mask. "It smells great, right?"

Gwen makes a noise. "I dunno, weren't you worried about— _woah!"_

It's at moments like this that Jefferson properly remembers that _oh, yeah, my son has superpowers._ You'd think it'd be while he's out swinging across the city, fighting crime, stopping baddies, but no. It's when he jumps eight feet straight up, grabs onto his friend's shoulder, and tugs her back down with enough force to shake the ground when they land again. Jefferson realizes a second later that he's digging his nails into the palms of his hands, and meanwhile Miles is just dusting his suit off like it's no big deal.

"If you're going to make me eat pizza, I'm gonna make you eat my Mom's cooking," he says, as Gwen picks herself up again.

She sighs. "Yeah, alright, guess I brought that on myself."

She looks a little unsure of herself, unmasked and sandwiched between Miles and a chair piled high with old phone books Rio plans to throw out soon. She eats slowly, glancing between Miles and Rio as they engage in a rapid-fire conversation in Spanish that she doesn't seem to actually be able to follow. Jefferson watches her for a long moment, then leans in and clears his throat. She glances up.

"So, Gwen, right?" he starts. She raises her eyebrows. "What's your last name?"

"Stacy," she says, idly pushing around some of her rice. She seems to see something in Jefferson's expression, because she continues, "Don't bother looking it up, you're just going to find a dead girl. I'm from another dimension."

Jefferson blinks, then leans back a little. "Well, fair enough. Miss Stacy, how old are you?"

"Lots of personal questions tonight, huh," Gwen says. She does not answer the question.

"I ask because you're definitely a teenager, and as Miles has _probably_ told you, I don't particularly approve of..." He hesitates.

"...Of kids putting their lives on the line?" Gwen finishes for him. "Hey, I getcha. It's a dangerous game."

"I don't approve of calling it a 'game.'"

"I get that too." She shifts a little, and sighs. "Look, it's just… we've got these incredible powers, and there's so much we _can_ do to help people. So much we _do_ do. Why shouldn't we?"

Jefferson frowns. "Because you're children," he says. "That should be us _adults_ putting our lives on the line for you, not the other way around."

"I mean, sure, but like, I'll bet I heal way faster than you," Gwen says, leaning back. "Try getting bit by a radioactive spider yourself, _then_ we can talk about me giving up the mantle."

"This talk didn't work on me, Dad," Miles cuts in, and Jefferson realizes very abruptly that he's been having this conversation at the dinner table right in front of two other people. "I seriously don't think she's gonna get swayed either."

Gwen clicks her tongue and shoots him a finger gun. "Nice dadding, Dad, but I'm fine, really. I've already got a father."

"Not in this dimension, you don't."

Gwen rubs at the bridge of her nose. "Look, Mr. Morales—"

"It's Davis, actually."

"Mr. Davis." Gwen folds her hands neatly. "I'm fine, really. I've been doing this for two years, I know what I'm doing."

"Peter Parker was at it for ten, and look where that got him," Jefferson says, and Gwen stiffens a little. "Look, I know I can't physically force you into anything, and I'm not your dad. But just… be careful, okay? I don't want to have to see a kid get buried 'cause they thought it was their responsibility, parallel universe or no."

"I'll keep that in mind," Gwen says, finishing off her plate and pushing it away. "I should get going. It's probably super late back in my world."

"It's super late _here,"_ Miles says.

"You're right," Gwen says, fussing with her bracelet-watch-thing. "Which means it's _mega_ late back home. Still on for pizza next week too?"

"Yep," Miles says.

"Come by again whenever you want!" Rio says, as space tears open in front of Gwen. Gwen smiles and waves back as she steps in, and then she's gone.

Jefferson crosses his arms, considering the empty space she left behind. "Say, Miles," he says. "I'm starting to think you didn't tell us everything about how you got to be Spider-Man."

Miles groans, forehead hitting the table with a thump. "Fine, I'll tell you the _whole_ story…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **edit:** originally, this was marked as chapter 2/3. as you can see, it is no longer! while i can't _guarantee_ the planned third chapter will never be finished, it doesn't seem to be on track for happening anytime soon, and i think these two chapters stand well enough on their own. perhaps one day i shall truly finish this trilogy! but until then, i don't feel like leaving what feels like a hanging obligation when i've got all sorts of other projects going on with way higher priority.
> 
> [also i guess i got featured in an article, that's wild.](https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/read-this-fanfiction-black-panther-and-shuri-meet-spider-man)

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @[brushstrokesapocalyptic](http://brushstrokesapocalyptic.tumblr.com/), where i'm currently screaming inside about how good spiderverse is


End file.
